A Taste for More

I first met Manfred when he had just moved into the very nice assisted living home.  I asked him how he was settling in. He retorted in a slight German accent, "I certainly am not settling in.  They know nothing about strudel, not even sauerbraten.  I am starving."  I sympathized with him, but I also felt some sympathy for the home.  I am sure they are well meaning and trying to serve him a healthy diet.  But I also understand the longing for food that we know at a cellular level.  The food a loving parent or grandparent would cook and serve.  Even Olga, who is a tiny woman (Manfred is definitely not tiny), recently said she thought the staff was trying trying to do her in, one stalk of broccoli at a time.  Every month a particular resident of a skilled nursing home invites me to her home hat she remembers so well for a real Turkish coffee.  She always emphasizes the word real. "Not the stuff they serve here. We'll use good cups and have a nice conversation, just you and I." Food memories stay with us.  

I did not see Manfred for a few months, but lately he has been back in worship.  He is looking both healthier and happier, and I am discovering that he has a very good sense of humor.  The pianist speaks a little German, and they have a good time conversing. However, he is still not entirely pleased.  Communion is bland.  I can no longer drink the juice left in the cup, and often, the places I go do not have a sink that is readily accessible. Therefore, I have served plain water for over a year.  I figure Jesus changed water, not Welch's, into wine.  I must ask that he continue to do so.     

This week, Manfred handed me a $20 bill.   "Go get a nice bottle of communion wine."  I explained that it probably not a good idea for me to be drinking wine as I move through the day.  "Manfred, my services are loose enough, don't you think?"  He and the other residents laughed, including Betsy, who was feeling pretty miserable that day.  I tried to return the money, but he insisted I keep it.  I told him I would pass it on to the ministry. While not entirely satisfied, he seemed to feel good about making a contribution.  I have a couple of dollar bills that others have given me over the months, so I guess it is time to send a deposit in.  Many of the elders long to tithe, but often they have absolutely no money left over at the end of the month.  I treasure those dollar bills and the blessings that generally accompany them. I can assure Manfred that his donation is in good company.  I shall not tell him that water is good for us.  He knows that all too well. 

          

  

You bring bread from the earth,

and wine to gladden our hearts...(Psalm 104:14-15)